Bourne 7 – The Bourne Deception - Страница 65

Tracy was standing by the window, looking out at the chaotic street, when she heard the door open behind her. Assuming it was Noah, she turned back into the room, only to confront a man with a shaved head, a goatee, black shot through with white, a ring of diamonds in the lobe of one ear, and a tattoo of a fanged bat on the side of his neck. With his wide shoulders, barrel chest, and thick legs, he looked like a wrestler or one of those mutant extreme fighters she‘d seen once or twice on American TV.

— So you‘re the one who brought my Goya, the Bat-man said as he sauntered over to the table where the painting lay in all its grotesque grandeur. He had a way of walking, a rolling gait one saw only on muscle-men and sailors.

— That‘s Noah‘s, Tracy said.

— No, my dear Ms. Atherton, it‘s mine, the Bat-man said in grating, thickly accented English. -Perlis merely bought it for me. He held the painting up in front of him. -It‘s my payment. His chuckle was like the gurgle of a dying man. -A unique prize for unique services rendered.

— You know my name, she said, moving toward the table with its platters and thick glass bowls of food, — but I don‘t know yours.

— Are you certain you want to know it? He continued to examine the Goya with a connoisseur‘s practiced eye. And then, without allowing her space to answer: — Ah, well, then, it‘s Nikolai Yevsen. Perhaps you‘ve heard of me, I own Air Afrika, I own this building.

— Frankly, I never heard of you or of Air Afrika. My business is art.

— Is that so? Yevsen placed the Goya back onto the table, across which he faced her. -Then what are you doing with Jason Bourne?

— Jason Bourne? She frowned. -Who‘s Jason Bourne?

— The man you brought here with you.

Her frown deepened. -What are you talking about? I came alone. Noah can vouch for that.

— Perlis is busy at the moment, interrogating your friend Mr. Bourne.

— I don‘t- The rest of her words choked in her throat when saw a snubnosed.45 in his left hand.

28

IF YOUR BUSINESS is art, Yevsen said, — what are you doing with an assassin, a spy, a man with no scruples, no heart? A man who would put a bullet through your head as soon as look at you.

— But who‘s threatening to shoot me? Tracy said.

— You or him? — You brought him here to kill me. Yevsen had a face that conveyed brute force, blunt power. He was a man used to getting what he wanted from anyone, at any time. -I have to ask myself why you would do that.

— I don‘t know what you mean.

— Who are you working for? Really.

— I work for myself. I have for years.

Yevsen pursed his lips, which were thick as slabs of raw meat, and as ruddy. -Let me make this easy for you, Ms. Atherton. In my world there are only two kinds of people: friends and enemies. You have to decide which one you are, right now, this minute. If you don‘t answer truthfully I will put a bullet through your right shoulder. Then I‘ll ask again. Silence or a lie will only gain you a bullet through your left shoulder. Then I‘ll go to work on that beautiful face of yours. He waggled the gun at her. -One thing is certain, when I get through with you, you won‘t be a pretty sight. That ghastly chuckle again. -No Hollywood casting agents will come calling, that I can guarantee you.

— The man I‘m with is Adam Stone, that‘s really all I know.

— See, the problem, Ms. Atherton, is that I‘m not feeling it-the truth, I mean.

— That is the truth.

He took a step toward her so that he was pressed up against the far side of the table. -Now you‘ve offended me. You think I‘ll believe you brought someone here without knowing anything about him but his name-which in fact isn‘t his name at all.

Tracy closed her eyes. -No, of course not. She took a deep breath and stared straight into Yevsen‘s coffee-colored eyes. -Yes, I knew his real name was Jason Bourne, and, yes, it was my job not only to bring Noah the Goya, but to ensure Bourne would get here.

Yevsen‘s eyes narrowed. -Why was Bourne sent here? What is he after?

— Don‘t you know? You sent one of your Russian assassins, a man with a scar and a tattoo of three skulls on his neck, to kill Bourne in Seville.

— The Torturer? Yevsen‘s face twisted in obvious disgust. -I‘d sooner cut off my arm than hire that piece of filth.

— All I know is that he thinks the man who tried to kill him is here. The same man who must have hired the Torturer.

— That‘s not me. He‘s been given the wrong information.

— Then I don‘t understand why I was hired to make sure he got here.

Yevsen shook his head. -Who hired you to do this?

— Leonid Arkadin.

Yevsen aimed the.45 at her right shoulder. -Another lie! Why would Leonid Danilovich hire you to ensure Bourne arrived here?

— I don‘t know, but… Gauging his response, noting the look on his face, caused her to make a delayed connection. -Wait a minute, it must have been Arkadin who told you I had Bourne with me. He must be the one who hired the Torturer, which means he must be here, lying in wait for Bourne.

— Being so close to death has made you desperate. At this very moment, Leonid Danilovich is in Nagorno-Karabakh, Azerbaijan.

— But don‘t you see, Arkadin is the only one who knew Bourne was with me.

— This is bullshit! Leonid Danilovich is my partner.

— Why would I make up a lie like that? Arkadin paid me twenty thousand in diamonds.

Yevsen recoiled as if he‘d been struck. -Diamonds are Leonid Danilovich‘s signature-how he gets paid and how he pays. Damn him to hell, what‘s that lying sack of shit up to? If he thinks he can double-cross me-

And at that moment Tracy saw Bourne sprinting down the hallway. Yevsen recognized the surprise in her eyes and began to turn toward the door, his

45 at the ready.

Noah Perlis‘s sense of triumph vanished as soon as he saw a Sudanese lurker and one of the guards that Yevsen‘s security personnel had cornered on the street level just inside loading dock A.

— What the hell is this? he said in Sudanese Arabic. With a wave of his hand, he sent some of the security people out into the street to check for anyone else who had no business being on the block. Then he confronted the guard, quickly determining that he knew nothing. The chief of security-who had, by that time, joined him-fired the man on the spot.

Addressing the lurker, he said, — Who are you and what are you doing on these premises?

— I… I lost my way, sir. I was talking with my cousin‘s cousin-the man who was just fired, which, I think when you hear my story, you‘ll agree is too harsh a punishment. The man kept his eyes lowered and his shoulders hunched in a pose of servility. -My cousin‘s cousin had to urinate, you see, but he didn‘t want to turn me away because I needed money to pay for my child‘s-

— That‘s enough! Noah slapped him hard across the face. -Do you think I‘m some tourist you can gull with your idiotic stories? He slapped the man again, harder this time, so that his teeth clacked together and he winced.

— Tell me what you‘re doing here or I‘ll turn you over to Sandur. The chief of security grinned, showing black gaps between his teeth. -Sandur knows what to do with vermin like you.

— I don‘t-

This time Noah‘s fist slammed into the lurker‘s mouth, spraying bits of teeth and blood onto the man‘s filthy shirt. -There‘s a full moon tonight, but don‘t count on seeing it.

The lurker had just launched into his story about being accosted by an American who wanted to get inside 779 El Gamhuria Avenue when the contingent of security people Noah had sent out into the street returned. One of the men leaned over and whispered something into his ear.

At once Noah grabbed the lurker and threw him into the arms of Sandur.

— Here, take care of him.

— Sir, have pity, the lurker protested, — I don‘t deserve this, I swear I‘m telling the truth.

But Noah was no longer concerned with the lurker or who had tried to gain access to the Air Afrika headquarters. An urgent sense of self-preservation had taken hold of him. He approached the glare of the loading dock and peered out from the shadows. Sure enough, as the security man had said, there was a minibus parked across the street. It was full of people-all male-which was what had raised a red flag for the guard. Then Noah saw the flash of metal-

the muzzle of an AK-47-and his worst fears were confirmed. Someone was planning an imminent raid on the Air Afrika offices. He was so stunned he couldn‘t even think of who might have the knowledge and the wherewithal to attempt what most considered unthinkable. But that wasn‘t the issue now. He needed to get away from ground zero before he was caught in the crossfire between Yevsen‘s mercenaries and the raiding party crowded into the Sudanese minibus across the street.

Bourne, combing the third floor of the building while keeping out of the way of both the staff and the security personnel, heard a deep, rough-edged voice coming from a large room ahead of him. When he heard Tracy‘s voice in the interval between the male voice‘s questions, he broke into a flat-out run because he was certain that she had been captured by Arkadin as the last bit of bait for him.